The Blue Paladin
by wirenoose
Summary: He didn't ask to go to space, not like this anyway. And sure, it was fun and exciting and new when they first arrived, but it's clear now that they can't just go back home. They're Voltron, the defender of the universe. And they're fighting a very real threat. A threat that could kill them if they aren't careful.


Season three made me sad, so I made myself sadder.

The rating is because Pidge swears like once

Also: **Spoilers for Season 3**

* * *

Surprisingly, it's Pidge who finds him curled up in some dark corner of the castle he thought for sure would be forgotten and let alone.

He was wrong apparently.

Pidge crouches in front of him for a moment before moving to sit next to him, taking in his huddled form and the unmistakable sniffling that accompanies a good crying session.

"Homesick?" she asks after a short bout of silence.

He doesn't respond immediately, too focused on getting his breathing back under control. So she won't hear the tears in his voice.

"Yeah, but...I don't know."

"Know what?"

The way she presses is gentle, she doesn't demand anything of him. On any other day, in any other situation, he'd expect her to push and push until she got the answer she was looking for. That's just how Pidge was, how she is, normally anyhow. She's curious in nature, and relentless in that curiosity. She gets to the root of a problem, and upends it so she can look at all of its innerworking, each little piece, to take it apart and rebuild it.

But she doesn't do that now. Now, Pidge is just a shoulder for him to lean on.

And he does, uncurls from his protective ball, stretching out his legs and shifting until his head falls onto her shoulder. Wordlessly, she brings up one hand to pet down his hair before she eases back against the wall.

"I'm part of the team, right?" he asks at last. He knows he whispered but his voice seems to have shattered some invisible veil surrounding them.

He doesn't like it.

"When I tease," she starts, "I don't mean anything by it. I'm sorry if you didn't know that."

It's not really the answer he's expecting, but the fact that Pidge pinpointed her teasing as a source of insecurity speaks volumes to how observant she is.

"It's just- It's something I used to do with Matt, we'd tease back and forth. I can dial it back," she pauses a moment before continuing. "You're the best sharp shooter I've seen, and you're the reason we made new allies. You're an important part of the team, Lance, I'm sorry if I've ever made you doubt that."

Lance sniffles once, twice, then rubs at his eyes.

"Thanks, Pidge. I kinda like your teasing though, in a way. It makes everything here seem normal, which is something I think we all need right now."

It wrings a dry chuckle out of her, and Lance smiles at the raspy sound.

"If you ever need a crying buddy," she says, "I'm usually in the hangar, so, my shoulder is yours if you want it."

Lance nods, wordless.

They end up staying in that forgotten corner of the castle for a while. Eventually, Pidge helps him to his feet and walks him to his room.

"Night, sharpshooter," she says with a smile.

"Night, Pidge."

* * *

He takes Pidge up on the offer for a little while.

He lays on the floor while she fiddles with her robotics and computers and wires. She listens as he rambles, providing insight or silence where it's needed. He only cries a few times, and she's there to hold his head in her lap or run her fingers through his hair.

But he stops going after a while, too consumed by the thought that he's taking advantage of Pidge's time. She doesn't ask him why he stops, she respects his space, he knows that.

His brain has other plans for him though.

It tells him that Pidge was just pitying him, that none of the things she said were true, that she's glad he stopped coming to her because now she can spend more time looking for her brother and oh god, he was just-

The thoughts spiral and send Lance to a different corner of the castle.

This time, no one finds him.

It's just him and his thoughts.

It's not a good combination.

He thinks of Shiro, their fearless leader. Thinks of all the ways that Shiro contributes to the team and the list is endless so he moves on. There's no question about Pidge's value, she's managed so much, built so many things and learned so much more. Her technical skill is unmatched amongst the paladins and he has no doubts that she'll only get better. Hunk's mechanical expertise has gotten them out of more than a few sticky situations. And he's friendly, he know how to work with people, even space people. He's the reason their interactions with the Balmera and its people went the way it did. He's the reason they even found the Blue Lion!

Then there's Keith.

Lance doesn't want to go down the road but his brain grabs the wheel and slams the gas.

Keith.

Iverson never passed up the opportunity to remind Lance that the only reason he'd gotten as far as he had was because Keith dropped out. Told him that, otherwise, Lance would still be a cargo pilot. Back at the garrison, Lance knew that, of course he knew that, but it was easier to pretend and tell himself he got in on his own skill.

And he did, but his best wasn't enough to beat the best until that spot was suddenly vacant.

Keith, the hothead who's better than Lance in all the ways that count and even in the ways that don't. Keith, who doesn't even realize he's better and that makes it all that much worse.

Lance tucks his knees tighter to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.

He lets the thoughts of inferiority consume him for another few hours before his mind drifts onto sadder notions.

He didn't ask to go to space, not like this anyway. And sure, it was fun and exciting and new when they first arrived, but it's clear now that they can't just go back home. They're _Voltron_ , the defender of the universe. And they're fighting a very real threat. A threat that could kill them if they aren't careful.

He may never see home again.

* * *

He starts going to Blue when the thoughts get bad. He doesn't sit in the pilot's seat, but outside, in front of her.

Part of him wishes that she'd speak to him, tell him stories about her past paladin, or even the things she'd seen in her time as one of the legs of Voltron. But she doesn't. She does the next best thing though.

He can feel her in the back of his mind on nights like these, just waiting there. He's never been able to put words to the feeling he gets when Blue communicates with him, just that she does. It's like a river, rushing gently towards him. It's nothing clear, nothing precise, but the ideas transmit just clear enough for him to make sense of.

"You chose me for a reason, right?" he asks aloud one night. "You didn't just blindly pick me? If I wasn't there would you have picked one of the others? Why'd you pick me?"

He'll never forgive himself for interrupting Allura on that first day. He jumped in before she could say the qualities of the Blue Lion and Paladin. But maybe he'd interrupted her on purpose, so he wouldn't know. He can't definitively say anything about himself, and he maybe he was trying to protect himself from hearing something he didn't want to.

In a round about, not making any sense, irrationally illogical, Lance sort of way.

But now he'll never know.

And Blue can't give him a list of adjectives, she doesn't tell him right out.

All he gets his a pleasantly warm feeling at the base of his skull that spreads down his back and through the rest of his body. He thinks he hears a rumble, feels it reverberate through his chest, and he smiles weakly up at Blue.

"Okay."

* * *

"You chose me for a reason, I thought you chose me," he cries, trying not to raise his voice. There are tears dripping down his face, and he can't stop his lips from trembling.

The entire Lion Switch Debacle had muddled together into a blurry scene, everybody was too emotionally charged and Lance hadn't had the time to sort through his own feelings. Now that everything's died down a bit, now that his emotions are even more of a mess, he's come back to Blue, already crying before she's in his line of sight.

He was the first paladin chosen, Blue chose _him_. So why had she changed her mind? Why had Red? Allura could have piloted Red, then there'd be no issue!

"Why?" he asks. "Why? I don't understand, please, you have to tell me."

But she doesn't respond to him. He doesn't feel anything, no weighted presence in his mind, no warmth at the base of his skull.

"Blue, girl, please, I have to know why you chose me. It couldn't have been an accident, please."

The tears are pouring now, he stops trying to wipe them away, it's a fruitless effort and his hands are shaking too much to be of use anyway.

"I'm not mad at you, I swear, I just- I need to know."

His voice is shaking as much as his hands are, and he's starting to choke on his own breath.

"Blue, please," he says again.

Again, he feels nothing.

He turns around and walks away, making it to his room without anyone stopping him.

He's still wearing some of his paladin armour, most of it lies in a forgotten pile somewhere, but he'll deal with that when the time comes. He kicks the rest off, not even trying to be careful, and once it's all on the floor, he falls onto his bed.

Really, he's happy for Allura, he knows how important being a paladin is for her. But he can't stop his thoughts from running away from him.

If-

When they get Shiro back, he'll pilot the Black Lion, Keith will go back to Red and Lance-

As much as he wants to, he can't take Blue from Allura, and he won't keep Red from Keith. So where does that leave him?

At that point, he really will be a seventh wheel, won't he?

He has nothing else to offer.

* * *

He's beginning to wonder if Pidge has some sort of 'Sadness Finder' that keeps allowing her to know when he's falling to his lowest place.

But he's not in some dark castle corner this time, he's in his room, and Pidge's knock comes at what would be around midnight.

She walks in without a word, sits on his bed, and opens up her arms. There's nothing but soft determination written on her face so he moves closer, the slightest bit cautious.

"Wha-"

She pulls him in before he can get his first word out, wrapping him tight in her arms and sighing.

"Hunk's on his way," she says.

God's honest truth, he's glad she's here, but he won't let her know that.

"Pidge, I'm fine, swear."

He pulls back, for all that Pidge is capable of, her upper body strength is sorely lacking. There's no challenge in breaking away from her and putting a few steps of distance between them. He shoves his hands into his pockets and slaps on his practiced 'Everything is Fine' smile.

Pidge doesn't look like she's buying it though.

Before he can say more, there's another knock at the door and Lance remembers what she said about Hunk being on his way. When he makes no move to open the door, Pidge gets up and does it for him.

"Hey, buddy."

"Guys, I don't know if this is like some kind of intervention, or something, but I'm fine. You guys should go to bed, you look tired."

He's not wrong. Pidge has dark shadows under eyes, the likes of which Lance would believe are cause for concern. Hunk isn't much better, when he blinks, he blinks hard, as if it's difficult to keep his eyes open.

"We can do without some sleep," Pidge says.

"Yeah, don't worry about us," Hunk adds.

The longer they stand there, the less Lance thinks he can keep up this smile. The corners of his lips are already trembling, and the tears are starting to well up.

"Really, guys-" his voice cracks and that's it. The floodgates open up and he's standing there crying as his smile falls.

Pidge and Hunk share a look. It's only for a split second, then they're moving towards him.

Hunk sits down on the bed, one leg hanging off the edge while he bends and tucks the other in front of him. Pidge takes Lance's hands and guides him to the bed, tugging him gently until he's between the two of them.

He finds himself tucked up against Pidge, with Hunk's worried gaze fixed on him. One of his hands twists into the fabric of Hunk's shirt, while the other clutches one of Pidge's hands.

And he's crying in earnest.

It's a mix.

He's tired, tired of smiling all the time. He's exhausted and he's worried and he's at the edge. He's running on fumes, too busy pacing and crying to sleep most nights. He feels guilty because apparently he hadn't done a good a job as he thought hiding it all. He's keeping Pidge and Hunk awake, taking up their time, their energy, their worry.

Lance cries until he feels like he can't cry anymore.

When that happens, Pidge helps him sit up. He takes back both of his hands to rub at his eyes, tugging his sleeves to cover his palms so he can dry his face a little bit.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Lance, you don't-" Hunk starts. "It's okay."

"We're friends, you know?" Pidge says. "For future reference, you can come to us. I don't sleep anyways, so I'll be up, and Hunk gives really good hugs."

"It's true, I do."

Lance surprises himself by laughing.

Pidge has a soft smile on her face, and Hunk looks like he wants to prove that 'really good hugs' claim.

"Thank you, guys, really."

"Well, we gotta make sure our buddy is okay, don't we?" Hunk asks. "I mean, we're the Garrison Trio, certified wonderful people and all around super talented superheroes."

Pidge snorts at that but keeps her comments to herself.

"The point is, we just wanted to make sure you're doing all right. I mean, you were just crying so that's probably- just-"

"We're friends, and you're not okay, you're going through some shit, so we're here."

"Exactly."

Lance sits up straight and breathes in deep.

This little sit down isn't going to fix him, he knows that. He knows that years of anxiety and a slowly festering inferiority complex isn't going to just be washed away with a few hugs. Pidge and Hunk know that too.

So, for once, he squashes down the voice in the back of his head that's starting to scream at him.

Pidge has listened to him once before, the only variable added is Hunk. But Lance doesn't think that will change much. The worst possible scenario is that Hunk starts sympathy crying.

But that's okay.

He takes their hands again, taking a moment to marvel at the differences between the three of them.

Pidge's hands are tiny, but they're not dainty. Her fingertips are scarred, her nails bitten, calluses having already formed on her palm. Hunk's hands are bigger than all of their's, worn rough but they're warm and soft. Then there's Lance's hands, thin and long and bearing scars across the tops of his hands that he's accumulated over summer vacations.

"You guys sure this is okay?" he asks.

"Of course."

"Absolutely."

Lance nods and takes another breath to steady himself. There's still tears burning in his eyes but he's done holding them back. He'll be fine if they start to fall again.

"Whenever you're ready," Pidge says.

Lances opens his mouth and allows out everything he's been keeping in since as far back as he can remember.

* * *

Look, I just really love Lance and I want him to be happy.

I was also putting off an essay but that's neither here nor there.

Also, why is it whenever I write for a new fandom, it's sad shit like this?


End file.
